


Black Dahlia

by deadlyscene (orphan_account)



Category: Hollywood Undead (Band)
Genre: Blood and Torture, Kidnapping, M/M, Reboot, Revenge, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2019-11-05 22:25:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17927522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/deadlyscene
Summary: Deuce gets revenge.





	1. don't let the dead bite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Juuuuuuuust so you guys know, I was the user MaskedWarChild... I had abandoned this story bc I lost interest, but after seeing them live for the first time recently, I decided to reboot this story lol. I enjoyed rewriting this, so hopefully you guys enjoy it too. ((:

"Where the fuck is he? This dude already fucked us over by not showing up yesterday and today too?" Jordon sighed as he sat back down on the couch in their studio.

The other band members glanced at one another with worried faces. Jordon was right. Where was Danny?

Yesterday, Danny didn't show up for their get-together at the studio they scheduled in the afternoon. The men called or sent a text to the lead singer to remind him, but no answer. Close as they were to the singer, they all thought something was wrong. Matt suggested he was probably just sick, or too tired to come in to ease the men, so they continued without him. 

Until now, Danny didn't show up at the studio again.

"I wonder if he's busy with Theresa." George said. "Remember what Danny said he was going through? That custody battle shit over Scarlet and Roman? Maybe he just got caught up in that mess."

Jordon clicked his tongue. "Probably, but the fucker always called ahead if he wasn't going to show up at any session," he said as he stood up. "Anyways, let's all swing by his place and check on him, yeah? We look like we're about to shit in our pants if we don't."

As the five men arrived at Danny's place after a few minutes of driving, they found his door ajar. They also found spots, of what looked like dried up blood, on his small brown welcome mat. Exchanging glances, the men rushed in and shouted out the lead singer's name to show himself. Seconds passed, no Danny. They then each split up and went through every room in the house to look for him.

Nada. The house was empty.

"Fucking shit man, where the fuck is he?" Dylan slammed a fist on the wall. The other four men took a seat on the couch. They were all worried. 

"Call Theresa, maybe he's there with her?" Matt said.

"How? We don't have her number? And I doubt he's with her," Dylan scoffed.

"I have it." The men turned to look at Jorel.

"Remember when Funny man broke his phone that one time? Well he needed to call Theresa that day so he asked if he could borrow my cell," Jorel explained. "I have her number saved in case he needed to call her again."

Jorel pressed the call and speaker button and quickly handed his phone to Dylan. Dylan gave him a 'wtf why do i have to talk to her look' and tossed the phone on the table in front of them instead.

"...Hello?" said the voice on the other line.

 _"Fuck,"_ whispered Dylan. He knew the others weren't gonna talk. He cleared his throat.

"This Theresa, right?"

"...Yes, who's asking?"

"I- uh Dylan... I was wondering if Danny's there with you?" The five men crossed their fingers in hope.

"Dylan as in _Funny man?"_ She spat. "How fucking dare you call me and ask where Danny is? How should I know? Last time I saw him, you were sticking your dick up his ass on my _bed,_ in my _house!_ Don't you _ever_ call me again. _"_

 _ **Click.**_ The line went dead.

"That's the exact reason why I didn't wanna talk to her," Dylan said frustrated. "So what the fuck are we gonna do now?"

"I guess we call the cops," Jorel said.

"Like hell they're going to do shit!"

"Dylan calm do–"

"Don't tell me to fucking calm down! You all know the cops here are too fucking lazy to do shit. All they're gonna do is sit on their asses like the fucking pigs they are and wait. I'm not gonna fucking wait!"

George stood up and grabbed Dylan by his collar. "And what do you suggest we do, huh?" He gripped onto his shirt even tighter, shaking him a little. "There's fucking blood on the floor, there's no way we're going to just ignore that and not tell the cops shit."

"I'm not fucking ignoring that!" Dylan yanked himself away from him.

Reminding him there was blood on the floor, possibly _Danny's_ blood, made him nauseous. Dylan started to shake.

"Hey man, I didn't me–"

"Just shut the fuck up," Dylan let out a sob. "I fucking love him ya know? How do you expect me to calm down? With all that fucking blood on the floor, he could be dead!"

"That's it, I'm calling the cops," Jorel said as he took his phone out. "Like George said, we gotta at least inform the cops about this."

"Wait," Matt spoke up. The men paused. They all turned to where the drummer was standing. He held a mask.

Jorel recognized it first.

"...That's Deu– Aron's mask? What the fuck is it doing here?"


	2. do whatever it takes

The man's head throbbed with pain, and his wrists and ankles were burning. But from what? He opened his eyes and met with pitch black.

_What the hell?_

The man blinked a few more times, hoping the pitch black he was seeing went away and nothing. He moved his head a little and his skin made contact with some sort of rough material. He realized there was something over his head. He also realized that it started to get difficult to breathe. He panicked.

He tried to reach up and remove whatever was over his head, but he couldn't move a muscle. It didn't take long either for him to realize the burning sensation he felt on his wrists and ankles came from rope. Time was ticking and the man started to lose more air.

"Help!" he shouted as he struggled. 

A second later, sudden light blinded him.

_"You're finally awake."_

 

* * *

 

_"Holy shit, you're right."_ They all said at once.

Jorel quickly tore the mask out of Matt's hands. "Danny hangs out with Aron?" He asked in disbelief.

"Aron spits a ton fuck of names towards the dude to the press, so I highly doubt it... Holy fuck." Jordon froze.

"Don't you guys fucking get it?" Now it was Jordon's turn to yank the mask away from Jorel and waved it furiously in the air. "I fucking bet his scrawny ass had something to do with Danny's disappearance!"

"How are you so sure?" Jorel said, quickly jumping to Aron's defense.

"How am I so  _sure?_  Are you fucking kidding me J? Have you not heard all the shit he says about us to the press too?" Jordan exclaimed.

"I think he's right, J" George spoke. "Remember the last gig we played with him? I don't know if any of you guys heard, but the clown told one of his buddies he was going to find a way to tear us down and I think he was serious about it."

Jorel shook his head.

It was no surprise to any of the other men, or in fact even the fans, that Jorel was supremely close with the former lead singer, so of course he didn't want to believe anything coming out of Jordon's and George's mouth. Though, it was true Aron had many things to say about their band ever since he was kicked out.

Neither of the men wanted his leave to happen but it happened anyway, there was too many disagreements and especially out of control arguments between him and the rest of the band. All but Jorel voted they wanted Aron out of the band. Not one bit did he agree with the other men, Aron and himself were the ones who started Hollywood Undead, he couldn't just turn his back against him? But when Jordon and George mentioned to him that they found out Aron had been in the process of forming another band secretly, it made him angry. He felt so betrayed by his best friend that he too decided to count his vote in for kicking him out. Aron did this all to himself so he had no reason to say shit or tear anyone down... Right?

"...You okay J?" Matt asked, breaking Jorel from his thoughts. 

 Jorel shook his head and clinched his fists. "You know what, Jordon? You're right. Aron's a fucking dumbass for what he did in the past and he actually blames us for what happened to him. From what it looks like now, this could be Aron's doing." 

Jorel just hope to God it wasn't true.

Dylan grabbed the mask and walked into the kitchen. "Once we,  _I_ fucking find him," he said as he turned on the stove. "I'm going to beat the living shit out of him." He placed the mask over the flames.

"We all are, Dylan," George placed a hand on his shoulder. The other men stood from behind and nodded as they watched the plastic crumple up.

_Whatever_   _it takes, we're coming to find you Danny._  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you better wave bye, byeeeee...


	3. fell today, it's all the same

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Deuce talks too much.

_"You're finally awake."_

As the man was gasping for air, his eyes readjusted to the new sight in front of him where the voice came from. He immediately recognized him.

"I honestly thought I killed you back when I smashed your head at your place,  _Danny_ boy." 

Danny scowled. "What am I doing here,  _Aron?"_

Aron went behind his chair where he was sitting and felt him place a cold hard metal object _\- an ankle cuff_  he guessed, around his ankle then securing it tightly with keys. Next he felt him loosening the rope keeping his hands and feet together. Not even a second passed, Danny whirled around with fists ready to make contact with Aron but the scrawny man had already stepped back far enough from his reach.

"It's Deuce to you, Danny boy. You don't get to call me by my real name," Aron said, swinging a pair of keys around his finger. 

"Fine... _Deuce._ Let me ask you again, what am I doing here, what do you want from me?"

Aron hummed. "I don't want nothing from you honestly." 

"Nothing? Then let me go!" Danny started to stalk towards Aron, but his cuffed ankle with a chain attached to it only let him go so far from a pole he was tied to. 

"In your dreams," Aron snickered and shoved Danny back with his foot, making him tumble down past his chair and onto the cold floor. 

Danny groaned in pain. He really couldn't do anything to Aron with his head still hurting from earlier and being chained up like a wild dog. Instead, Danny took a minute to calm down and process the room he was in. The place was small, practically empty besides the two chairs and the sun shining brightly through the two small windows from the far upper left and right of him. It kinda looked like he was in some sort of basement and from his guess, probably Aron's.

Still, he had no clue where he was exact or even why Aron had him here. The only thing he knew was that Aron hated his guts for replacing him, but didn't know _t_ _hat_ much to kidnap and hold him prisoner.

Aron cleared his throat and pulled up his chair close enough to him and sat. From there, Danny thought he might be able to take a swing at him. Regaining a little energy, Danny lunged at him but froze just in time to see Aron pulling out a switchblade from his pocket.

"Do I even need to explain what's gonna happen here? Looks like you're already catching on quite well," Aron laughed at his abrupt stop. "Let me just give you a brief description, yeah?"

Danny slowly eased back from the crazy fool. If Aron hadn't pulled out that switchblade, he might've landed a few punches.

"As I was saying, if you try to do anything stupid,"  Aron started to sway the small weapon back and forth. "You're gonna get slashed and stabbed, got it sweet Danny boy?" 

Danny clinched his fists. _Fuck._

"As I said from before, I really don't want anything from you," Aron said, slumping back against his chair with his arms crossed behind his head. "You're just a big ol' pile of shit right now."

"Then why do you have me here!?"

"Didn't you hear what I just said? You're a pile of shit and you know what happens when shit doesn't get cleaned up? It reeks up the place leaving the owner to come find and clean it up."

At this point, instead of wanting to land a few punches on him, Danny wanted to rip his head off from talking. "So from what you're saying, I'm bait?"

"I mean if you wanna put it that way, sure, but calling you a pile of shit is much better... It's gonna be a good fucking game I tell ya," Aron snickered.

 _"_ Fuck your game," Danny scowled.

"Mmm, I think you shouldn't say such things, Danny boy. It kinda involves you either living or dying ya know." 

" _Living_ or  _dying?_ "

"Yupp. Basically what i'm gonna do is send clues to your buddies and with those clues, they have to find where you're at within a week. If not," Aron started to laugh. "I'll kill you."

Danny couldn't believe what he was hearing. Aron was gonna kill him? Many thoughts started to race in his head. If he died, that means he'll leave behind his little Scarlet and Roman, his best friends, and his new lover. _Fuck that shit,_ he needed to find a way out fast. There was no way he was leaving Earth just yet, especially not with Aron being the last person he sees.

"I thought they were my friends, my  _family_ ," Aron started to speak. "But nope! They go behind my fucking back and kick me out of the ba-"

"Don't forget you're the one that started it," Danny said, cutting him off.

Aron stood up, his face wore murder.  **"** Shut your fucking mouth!" Aron charged at Danny and swung the switchblade at him, but with the small amount of energy Danny regained, he dogged it quickly, making Aron stumble foward a little and dropping the small weapon on the floor. Danny then jumped after it.

"No!" Aron shouted and jumped after him, making them both fall. Stuggling with Aron on his back, Danny kept reaching for the weapon.

_...Got it!_

 

* * *

 

Little did Danny boy know, he had another switchblade in his back pocket. As soon as Danny was able to grab the other weapon in front of him, Aron whipped out his second one and stabbed him on his right shoulder. The lead singer cried out in pain, letting the weapon from his hand drop. Aron stood and kicked the first weapon away from his grasp.

"I fucking told you this was what you're gonna get if you attempted something stupid." Aron sat back down on the chair, ignoring Danny's groans.

"As I was saying," he wiped Danny's blood off from the small blade onto his jeans. "Those fuckers went behind my back and kicked me out of the band! That shit tore me apart. I actually tried to reason with them but the fuckers didn't wanna hear me out, instead they basically told me to fuck off and never show my face again. You know how that fucking felt?!"

He started to raise his voice. "It felt much worse than that pussy ass stab you got." At this point, Aron didn't care if the lead singer was listening or not, he just needed to vent. It had been a while since he told anyone how he felt.

"It felt like my whole body, no wait, my _heart_ been stabbed multiple times. It had fucking hurt man, shit it still fucking hurts! One day when I when to get my stuff out of the changing rooms, I overheard them saying they should've kicked my ass out as soon as Swan Songs was released. Like really? It was almost like they hated me all along."

Aron stood up and paced back and forth, his arms crossed over his head and taking deep breaths. He was trying to calm himself down by doing this, but the tears were already at brink. "A-and J-Dog... Jorel. Fuck, I can't fucking believe he agreed to this whole shit! Me and hin swore that we will  _always_ have each others backs, no matter what! I even fucking lost my virginity to him, did that not mean anything?! That fucking bastard used me, they all did. So you know what ima do to them for hurting me?"

He glanced down at the lead singer, he looked like he passed out, but Aron could hear a faint groan coming out of him. _Good,_ he thought. He needed him to hear this part. "Since you're the front man, the guy who they care so fucking much, i'm going to hurt you. You're going to feel the pain I felt, my healing process. I'm gonna send your amigos pictures, ya know, the clues I was talking about earlier? Yeah those are the clues ima send them of you crying in pain. It's going to make me feel so much fucking better knowing they're gonna see you like this... So yeah, I guess I do want something from you."

Speaking of feeling better, Aron was already feeling it from his rambling. Aron looked at his watch, it was getting late. He pulled out a burner cell and snapped a picture of Danny, who was just laying face down with blood still seeping through his shirt. Aron was pretty sure now he passed out. Moving foward, he typed in a number he remembered from the top of his head and attached the photo with it and clicked send.

"See ya tomorrow, Danny boy, don't die on me. I still need ya," Aron started to walk towards the exit, turning off the lights as he went. He then started to sing an all too familiar song just as he closed the door behind him.

 _"I've been abused, I_   _feel so used, because of you..."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> used to be love struck, now im just fucked up im dksjjsjsjsje haaaa hope you guys liked thissss


	4. usual suspects

"So where do we start?"

The next day after the five men suspected, more like concluded, Deuce was behind this, they agreed to meet up at Jorel's place to continue where they left off. Their first option was to meet up at the studio, but knowing there was security camera's around, they didn't want anything recorded about the situation. They wanted to take care of it themselves first before getting the police involved.

The five men were gathered around in the living room, fidgeting their fingers nervously and angrily. 

"Well for one, we know that Deuce is behind this," Jordon said breaking the silence. "We just gotta find where that fucker is."

Everytime Aron's name was mentioned, Jorel's heart sank a little. Yeah his mask was found at Danny's place, but that could mean anything, he thought. Maybe Danny liked the mask and wanted to re-create a similar one...  _stupid._  That was just stupid. Of course Aron was behind this. The ex-lead singer hated Danny's guts for replacing him and the rest for kicking him out so it's obvious he wanted to get some sort of revenge. 

For now, he needed to keep his mind and mouth shut from coming to Aron's defense. As much as he wished all this wasn't pointing towards Aron, he needed to remind himself that he was a person capable of hurting others both verbally and physically even if he doesn't look it.

"And you think that's gonna be easy? That fucker could be anywhere by now, hell he could even be in _Mexico_!" Dylan shouted.

"Really, man? Mexico?" George rolled his eyes. "I doubt that. The fucker isn't smart to take Danny over there so my best bet, it's gotta be somewhere close by."

"Maybe his place?" Matt piped up.

Jorel snorted. "Yeah right. From what I see on social media, he doesn't have one of his own. He hops from one place to another."

Thankfully, no one noticed how Jorel got even more upset. After the departure, Jorel remembered seeing Aron's life fall apart real quick, the entire world did.  They all saw the pure evil quickly seeping out of Aron. Jorel pretty much figured out he was the only person Aron confided in because Aron had no one else now but the media to talk to and it didn't help him any at all. 

If somebody right now asked Jorel what super power he would like to have, he'd say to be able to go back in time. It'll help him fix the stupid mistake he did for not staying by his best friend's side when he needed him the most.

"Wait a minute," Jordon said as he stood up from the couch. "Last week's episode of TMZ, th-"

"You fucking serious, Jordon?" Dylan interrupted. "Incase you forgot, we're talking about finding Danny, not talk about what fucking show you watched last week."

Jordon was at his limit with this guy. Dylan acted as if he was the only who wanted to find Danny. News flash; they all want to find him! He understands how much Dylan wanted Danny by his side again, but he needed to learn how to calm the fuck down or else no one is going anywhere with this. 

Instead of punching Dylan in the face like he wanted, Jordon took a deep breath and tried again. "Let me rephrase what I said before, I saw Deuce and a guy he was with, Gadjet I think his name was, being followed by TMZ going into a club that aired last week... There. Was that so hard to sit through, Funny man?"

"Well why the fuck didn't you say that earlier?!" Dylan frantically rose to his feet.

"Because it didn't come to mind until now!" Jordon was thinking he just should've punched Dylan in the face. He could also hear Matt asking if he really watched TMZ. ... _Should've just punched the both of them, really._

"Well fellas," George stood up, cracking his knuckles. "It's time we pay this Gadjet fella a visit. I think I may know where to find him."

_Ding._

Jorel was a little surprised George knew who Gadjet was, though skeptical as well for him to know where exactly he might be. The dude was practically everywhere in LA, in clubs and on streets.

_Ding._

Trailing behind the other men out door, Jorel pulled out his phone from his pocket to check who was messaging him. From his guess, probably his girlfriend, Vanessa, wondering where he was.

_Ding._

_Damn,_ he thought, another one. Didn't think she worried _that_ much about him... Or not. The first message he opened came from a number he didn't recognize. It read: 

_Unknown number:_

**Hey.**

He opened the next one, again same number he didn't recognize.

_Unknown number:_

**Here's a treat.**

Then Jorel opened the last one; it was a photo. He froze, his eyes filled with terror. 

"J, you coming or what?" Dylan shouted out through the car.

Matt quickly noticed something was wrong. He climbed out of the car and made his way to Jorel, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey man, you okay?" 

Soon as Matt's eyes landed on the small screen Jorel was still looking at, his face dropped.

"Alright, alright, enough games you fuckers," Dylan said as he hopped out of the car, making his way to the two men. "If I gotta drag your asses to the car, I will." 

Suddenly, Jorel held his phone out to Dylan. 

"The fuck you giving me this for?" Dylan took the phone and tapped on the darkening screen. 

His heart sank, for a second he felt his whole world come to a complete stop. On the small screen, there was a photo of Danny sprawled out on the floor, his eyes closed and _blood_  all over his shirt. 

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS," Dylan shouted as he turned to face Jorel. "WHY DO YOU HAVE THIS?"

Jorel felt sick. "I-I dont know man, a random ass number just sent this to me!"

Dylan threw the phone on the ground and grabbed Jorel by the shirt with both hands, shaking him violently. From behind, the rest of the men scrambled out of the car to his rescue.

"Bullshit! It's Deuce right? Fuck, I bet you're behind this too, don't think I don't know about how much you're itching to get back with that motherfucker!" I'm gonna fucking k-"

"Hey, hey, HEY, STOP!"

Jordon ripped Dylan off of Jorel and swung him to George. George quickly threw his arms around him, keeping him in place. Matt and Jordon were by Jorel's side, making sure he wasn't hurt.

"Now what the fuck is going on here, huh?!" Jordon yelled, looking at Jorel then to Dylan.

"Look at his phone! It's fucking Danny, he's badly hurt!" Dylan struggled in George's arms.

"What?" Jordon spotted the phone on the ground and picked it up. Tapping on its' now cracked screen, the photo of Danny badly injured popped up.

"Holy shit."

"What, what!? I wanna see!" George pushed Dylan away and quickly rushed to Jordon's side.

George closed his eyes. "We have to find him asap."

"Why don't we ask this fucker here first?" Dylan started to walk towards Jorel. Jordon quickly stood between them.

"I already told you! A random ass number sent this to me and fuck you, man. I have nothing to do with this. I would never hurt any of you guys." _Should he really be saying that?_

Jordon handed the phone back to Jorel. "Don't listen to him, he's talking out of his ass. So, you don't recognize the number?"

Jorel shook his head.

"Well text it. Gotta make sure it's actually Deuce and hopefully we'll get more out of it."

The other men stared at Jorel, silently waiting. He sighed. 

_Jorel:_

**Aron? Is this you?**

A minute later.

_Unknown number:_

**It's Deuce to you bitch, but yes sweetheart. Did you miss me? Did you like the treat I sent ya? I hope so.**

Jorel took a deep breath and looked up at the men. "It's him."

Dylan stood up and walked back inside, slamming the door behind him. The other men shook their heads and muttered to themselves quietly. 

"Ask where he is," George said. "Maybe he'll be stupid enough to tell us."

"Wait, ask if Danny's alright first," Matt said.

_Jorel:_

**Whatever man. Is Danny alright?**

_Aron:_

**Danny this, Danny that. How about you fucking ask if I'm alright, huh?**

_Jorel:_

**As if. Again, Is Danny alright? Where is he?**

Mintues had passed and no reply. 

"Well, he isn't gonna tell us where he's at. I think we should go find Gadjet."

The men nodded. 

"I'll go get Dill," George said.

"Make sure he's not carrying anything deadly, we don't want things to get ugly when we find Gadjet. All we need from him is to tell us where Deuce is." Matt called after him.

"Well boys," Jordon pulled out his signature black sunglasses and placed them on his face. "Let's put back on our detective gear because we're one step closer to finding Danny." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 🐟🐟🐟 i think i've lost my mind


	5. my smile still shows

His shoulder started to throb painfully. Slowly, he pulled himself up from the ground, opening his eyes. The room was dark now. How long had it been since he knocked out? 

_"Ouch."_

Danny cringed in pain. He gently touched his wound, the blood around it had dried, but the blood that was actually in the wound still looked like it wanted to ooze out. Danny looked around the room to see if Deuce at least left some sort of first-aid kit for him to use. Of course, he didn't- it was empty like earlier, nothing changed except there being dry blood on the floor now. Silly for him to think Deuce would leave something like that for him, though didn't he say he needed him alive for the rest of the game? Even if it's a small wound, it hurted like hell and he felt like he would die from it if it's not patched up.

He rose from the ground carefully, trying not to move his shoulder too much. He wanted to try for the door, but since there was a cuff around his ankle, he couldn't move very far. Instead, he shouted his name out loudly, hoping Deuce would hear him -nope, the room stayed silent. Danny continued to call out his name a few more times then gave up. _Maybe he's not here,_  he thought. _Well great, just great._

Danny sighed. There was no use standing anymore, so he sat back down carefully against the pole he was chained to. He started to wonder what the guys were doing right now. Were they okay? Were they safe from that _lunatic?_  And finally, were they looking for him? _Obviously._ He should've punched himself for thinking that, but he can't help it! He felt like it'd been weeks staying down in what he called 'a _shithole'_ of a room. In reality, it'd been three days, but shit, he missed the guys so much, especially his kids and Dylan. _Dilly._

Dylan would absolutely fill in his needs right now. He can already imagine it -Dylan hugging him tightly as soon as he rescues him, whisper nothing but comforting words in his ear, and most importantly, beating the living shit out of Deuce. _Yes,_ that definitely has to happen because apparently the beating they gave him a few years back wasn't enough. 

"Took ya long enough to wake up,  _again._ " Deuce scoffed as he entered, turning on the lights. "I wanted to keep playing."

"You're fucked up in the head, you know that right?" Danny said without thinking. _Uh oh._

For a second, Deuce looked like he was about to pull out his switchblade again. "You know what?" He came a little closer to him, "You're right, and you know who's fault is that?" He stopped right in front of him. Danny still on the ground, he prepared himself for the worse. Deuce let out a chuckle and backed up. Danny thanked God his hands were empty. "That's right little bitch, you better fucking shield yourself."

Danny hated how this was the only thing he could do -his shoulder was still hurting, which reminded him, "Do you happen to have a first-aid kit?"

Deuce was cut off guard. "You do realize that I don't give a fuck if you're hurt, right? That's the whole point of this game."

 _Worth_   _a shot._  

"J-Dog was asking about ya."

Jorel? Yes! Which meant the guys found out about Deuce was the one who kidnapped him! Hopefully they're quick to find him as well. "What did he say?"

" _Is my lil' Danny alright? Where's my lil' Danny!"_  Deuce said as he tried to mimic Jorel's voice... it was terrible. "Those fuckers are so worried about you, it's making me feel so good. How about we make them even more worried about ya, huh?" He swung his switchblade out. Danny gulped.

"It's not worth it, Deuce," Danny said, trying to come up with something quick to save his ass. "Do you really want to go to prison because of  _me?_ If you let me go, I promise I won't tell the cops nothing, me and the guys will pretend this never happened."

Deuce roared with laughter. "Are you kidding me? The moment your buddies trashed me was the moment I didn't give a fuck about anything anymore! Go to prison? HA, then so be it. I just want revenge, Danny boy."

 _Fuck, fuck, fuck!_ Deuce was getting closer with the switchblade. "...Jorel misses you," Danny said suddenly. It got the lunatic to freeze in his tracks real quick.

_"What?"_

"He, uh, misses you! That's right, um, he talks about you all the time!" Danny was completely throwing him lies -well the only truth he said was in fact Jorel did miss him.

One night, Jorel got real drunk and called him up around 3a.m. Not giving him a chance to ask Jorel what he wanted, he blabbered about missing Deuce. He kept talking about how Vanessa wasn't enough and how Deuce was the only guy for him. He also went in detail how good the sex was between them in which Danny hanged up immediately as soon as he got to the part where they started to 69 -he didn't want to get mentally scarred that night. The next day, Jorel rushed to his house and apologized for his behavior. Danny told him there was nothing to be sorry for. The dude missed Deuce so much, he could clearly see how hurt everytime he mentioned his name. He also told him if he ever needed to talk or at least listen, not about what they do in bed of course, he was there. After telling Jorel that, he never brought up Deuce again.

Silence fell between the two. Deuce's face was expressionless. Danny thought this was a good thing because it gave himself another round of preparing for what's going to happen next. Suddenly Deuce's phone went off. Deuce snapped out of it and answered his phone, completely forgetting what he was about to do to Danny. Danny didn't mind at all though, more time to think and prepare.

"Waitwaitwait _what?"_ Deuce said. "The fuck are they doing there?"

 _They?_  Maybe Danny was going to get out sooner than anticipated.

"Well keep them fucking busy! One word out of your mouth about my location, you're gonna be fucking dead too," Deuce spat and hung up the phone. "Fuck you and those faggots! Who the fuck do they think they are fucking with my group!"

Deuce was fast this time coming at him, but Danny managed to quickly dodge his swing and elbow him in the back. Deuce stumbled foward and Danny quickly wrapped his arms around Deuce's neck in a choke hold from behind.

"Drop dead you crazy bastard!" Danny yelled as he continued to choke the daylights out of Deuce.

Deuce was trying to pry his arms off of him, but Danny wouldn't let that happen... until he felt a pain he never felt before. Deuce swung the switchblade hard and deep into his side. Immediately, Danny fell onto the floor, crying out in pain as the weapon was still lodged into his body.

Deuce wheezed and coughed, trying to settle himself down from almost losing consciousness. 

" _You,"_ **cough** , " _little,"_ **cough** , " _fucking **bitch!"**_ Deuce grabbed hold of the weapon and twisted it even deeper into Danny. "Remember when I said if you ever tried any of your stunts again, you'll be killed? Well this is it, bitch!"

Danny started to cough up blood. It hurts too much to pry Deuce off of him, let alone move. More blood was spilling out of his mouth and out of his wound fast.

Indeed, this was it. The final minutes of his life. Instead of having Deuce in his mind, he thought of his friends, no, his  _family._  All the happy memories he made with them.

He smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> do you see me when you close your eyelids?


End file.
